Thou Shalt Not Murder, Thou Shalt Not Kill
by sharonflynns
Summary: Sharon finally realizes, what caused her to pull the trigger. Was it careless impulse, or un-recognized scrutiny. **One Shot** Takes place after Season 5, White Lies Pt. 1


Her finger slipped behind the thin page of a book that she'd become so familiar with through the years. It meant everything to her. It had been her father's her whole life, until the night that Sharon confessed she would be divorcing Jack. She could have sworn that her father would have yelled, and start ripping through the pages, reading off lines, but instead he laid his hand on her shoulder and gave her his blessing.

He was never and angry man. He lived a quiet life. Him and her mother raised her and her siblings to be very calm and quiet people. That night, Sharon went over to her childhood home, expecting them to fall to pieces, but instead she was surprised. Her father said that sometimes she shouldn't read into the scriptures so literally. Yes, divorce was frowned upon by the Catholic Church, but sometimes things call for exceptions. God would rather she divorce a man who had emotionally abused her in every way, than remain unhappy, to a man who was barely the one she had married.

She looked at the pages that she'd turned so many times before. These scriptures had gotten her through so much tragedy and hardship, that she couldn't understand how she could betray them in the utmost way, and not feel guilty about it. Had she lost her religion? Maybe had a weak moment? But Sharon Raydor never had a weak moment in her entire policing career. Killing a man, certainly could be excused as a 'weak moment.'

She let her head hang back against the couch, and tried to clear her mind. She'd prayed so man times that day, she was almost afraid God had disowned her all together. She just needed a moment of silence, and maybe clarity would find her. She let the memories flood her mind, for the hundredth time since they'd happened.

All she saw was bullets flying. It took only one for Sharon to jump to her feet, her hand on the holster. Her eyes were fixated on the man across the room, taking lives by the second. Her mind was racing and she tried to determine the situation. She remembered the gun point her direction. People that she loved, _her_ people were surrounding her, on the other end of that barrel, and the next thing she remembered was her finger pull back the trigger, faster than it took her to realize what she was doing. _Once! Twice!_ Three bullets flew out of the cartridge. She remembered feeling nothing but relief as she stood, hovering over Dwight Darnell's limp body. Three blows to the chest. He was lucky he was still breathing after that.

She could still remember the distinct smell of gunpowder. Ever since then, she hadn't felt the slightest tinge of regret, or guilt. The man she had shot, and killed was a racist, murderer, who would most likely have killed her and who knows who else, if her aim hadn't been as good. She didn't know who had been shot, but she felt an arm reach around her shoulder seconds later. It was Andy, and he was inspecting every inch he could, to see if she'd been hurt. He asked her plenty of times and she shook her head. She was perfectly fine, it was the people who were shot that weren't. She couldn't save them all. What if he'd done more damage, and took more lives? For the first time, she actually considered what it might have been like if Andy was shot and not Chief Taylor. Tears filled the corners of her eyes, she couldn't bear the thought. It made her clench her fist, and a surge of anger fled through her. She wished she could shoot the bastard all over again.

The door opened behind her. _"Sharon?"_

Andy took off his jacket, and hung it neatly on the hook beside the door. He glanced around the condo until his eyes met a brunette head, laying on the back of the couch.

He took in the sight, and found his place next to her. "Hey," he spoke softly. "You doing okay?"

His hands rubbed hers softly. She lifted her head and looked at him, but not it wasn't domestic Sharon. She was calculating like Captain Raydor.

He tilted his head, confused.

"I know why I killed Dwight Darnell."

It was liked she'd finally reached a verdict.

"Because he was a dirt bag, who shot and killed five innocent people?"

She was silent, as she confirmed her theory. "I killed him because of you."

"What?"

"Andy, you were right behind us. If you hadn't moved, he could have shot you and I don't think I realized that until now."

Her eyes were glossy, as she fought back tears. "I pulled the trigger out of instinct, because I was afraid that it could have been you."

Tears were sliding down her cheek. He pulled her into his arms, as if to remind her that he _hadn't_ been shot, luckily enough.

He couldn't tell if she was crying, but she hadn't moved since her hands had found his back.

He moved the bible from her lap, and placed it beside him, settling into a more comfortable position. He laid back against the cushion, bringing her with him.

After a few moments, he finally spoke. "Sharon. I know it's hard dealing with what happened today, but you have to understand that what you did was the right thing." His hands stroked her hair. "It wasn't selfish, and it wasn't poor judgement. It had to be done either way."

He was Catholic himself. He hadn't been to church in years, but he understood her pain. The couldn't imagine what she was going through. They rarely spoke about religion or God. She would go to church on Sunday, and every once in a while she'd pray before bed. He understood how much her faith meant to her. "Sharon, what you did, wasn't a sin."

"I killed someone, Andy. And I don't feel any remorse, whatsoever."

"You did it to protect the lives of the people in the court room. I know that a life is a life, but you were only doing your job. You put your job first before your own personal values, and that's how you've come so far."

She sniffled and twisted in his arms. "I think I'll go to mass on Sunday. I haven't been to reconciliation in years."

"If that's what will help you, then I think that's a great idea."

She snuggled against his chest, holding on to the collar of his shirt. It was a selfish thought, but she was glad that it hadn't been Andy. Some other woman would be suffering the loss of her husband, but not her. She was grateful that for what it was worth, at least she still had Andy.


End file.
